


i don't care what he says

by kennysspace



Series: almost paradise - part two [9]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22203535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennysspace/pseuds/kennysspace
Summary: almost paradise: part two - chapter nine of fifteenbilly's arrival at the byers' has everyone on edge.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Henderson!Reader, Steve Harrington/Reader, Steve Harrington/You
Series: almost paradise - part two [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571503
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	i don't care what he says

this is also being updated to my tumblr. you can find it [here](https://yelennabelova.tumblr.com)

* * *

Your ears pick up on the sound after Max rushes to the window; there’s only one person in town who drives a car like that. The revving engine starts to get closer - your heart begins to race.

The girl curses under her breath when Lucas joins her, propping himself up on the cushions as he peers outside, “It’s my brother.”

“Oh shit-”

“What?” Dustin asks, brow creasing with concern at your tone; your eyes have grown wild - almost  _ afraid _ .

“He can’t know I’m here,” You frantically mention after spinning back to face Steve, your cheeks flushing with color as the stress overtakes you, “I lied to him. About tonight - why I couldn’t go. God, he’ll kill me.”

“Same here,” Max pipes up, adjusting the sleeves of her jacket as she approaches, “I snuck out earlier, and I can guarantee that my mom set him out on me. He’ll get us for sure.”

Steve tightens his jaw as he glances between the both of you, sighing at the realization that comes to his mind; he’s got to be the one to handle this. Billy Hargrove isn’t the type of monster Steve was expecting to face tonight.

“Alright, just stay quiet. I’ll take care of him,” He mutters before quickly combing fingers through his hair to get it out of the way. He doesn’t quite know what he’s preparing himself for, but something about this doesn’t feel right. Unknowingly, you’re having the same instinct.

Your eyes fill with fear at his words, and your hand grabs onto his arm as he moves forward. Digits curling into the fabric of the clothes, you address him, “Steve, you don’t have to do this-”

Steve grips the door handle tightly as he attempts to calm your nerves, “I’m just gonna get him to leave. Keep them out of sight, yeah? Can’t let him see Max’s here.”

His gaze darts to the kids who stand frozen in their places and Max’s frightened features, but yours doesn’t switch away from him. After realizing that it’s not likely Steve’s going to back down, that he’s doing this with or without your approval, your hand drops.

“Okay,” And once you share a slight nod and a deep sigh, he exits through the door - just barely latching it shut. 

Without a second to spare, the kids are being ushered to the couch; anxiety covers their faces like masks.

“What’s gonna happen?” Mike questions, staring out towards the driveway as the car rolls down the gravel; the blue paint reflects light like a mirror. 

Swallowing the lump inside your throat, you can only shake your head, “I don’t know.”

Dustin scoffs, fingers gripping the cloth of the couch as he watches Billy step out from the driver’s side, “Just look at him, all…  _ smug _ . God, what a piece of shit.” 

You send a vicious glare in his direction during the silence that follows - it doesn’t last very long.

“I can’t believe you were gonna go out with him!” 

“Again, seriously?”

“What do you see in him, anyways? You’ve got a perfectly good one right in front of you!”

“ _ Dustin! _ ”

“What? We’re all thinkin’ it!”

“That’s enough out of you, okay? We’re supposed to be quiet!”

And that’s when you realize that your voice had raised just a touch too loud; Lucas clamps his hand over your mouth. But it’s too late -  _ he heard _ .

Billy’s expression contorts immediately after realizing what happened, fury starting to come to the surface. He blankly gestures towards where you reside, "Is that bitch in there too? The one too frigid to go on one date? Bet she's too afraid to leave your side, Harrington, huh?" 

“Oh,  _ shit _ ,” You scramble to push yourself away from Lucas, sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor. You’ve got to get out there before this gets any worse. You know how this will play out if you don’t do something. 

But Steve - he’s ready to fight but you're rushing out of the house, shouting to catch his attention, "Steve, no! He's not worth it!" 

You’re tugging his arm back, desperately trying to convince him to stand down,  _ desperately  _ trying to get him to stop this before it can go any further - but Steve can only see red. He’s trying his best to control his anger as he lets you guide his gaze towards you, "You didn't hear what he said, did you?" And now he's more worried that you heard his words, concern pooling in his eyes. 

You shake your head, sending a glance at Billy, who’s looking thoroughly ticked off, "It doesn't matter. I don't care what he says." 

“Huh,” The cigarette is pulled away his lips as Billy speaks, “Didn’t seem that way to me the other day. I thought you liked what I was tellin’ you.” He takes a few predatory steps forward, rolling the burning tobacco between his fingers as he approaches, “Or was that just a lie too?”

Your exhale stops short; Billy’s brow quirks up at the way you bite down on your teeth. The lack of response from either of you only spurs him on - Billy sends a wink in your direction, relishing in aggression that he can feel roll off of your friend, “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find a way for you to make up for it.”

If you weren’t nauseated before, you are now.

“Get out of here,” You spit at him, “I’m not gonna ask you again.”

But now that you're here, hand on Steve's arm, and Billy's back at smirking. A laugh crawls from his throat as he ignores your demand, "My my, you're like a little bitch that needs a leash, Harrington." 

Your fingers tighten on Steve's bicep and Billy notices the motion, his smug grin only growing. Steve exhales loudly beside you; he doesn’t know whether to focus on your touch, Billy’s words, or his own emotions - it’s all too much.

The boy ahead shifts his weight, clicking his tongue, "Which is funny - ‘cause I thought she was the bitch."

“And you know what? I should've figured with your type, Henderson," Billy continues immediately, not giving either of you a chance to answer; he scoffs before throwing his cigarette to the cement.

"Oh yeah? What's that exactly?" You respond, eyes squinting as you watch him; you can feel anger beginning to manifest the longer he stands in front of you.

Billy raises his boot to put out the embers and he presses down with his heel, squashing it without breaking eye contact with you, "Smart chicks are too much work for a half-assed shag."

It takes every ounce of self control Steve has not to pummel Billy into the ground at the sight of tears brimming in your eyes.

"Go," Steve finally speaks, his voice tense and low, "Your sister isn't here so why don't you do us both a favor and fuck right off, okay?" 

Steve smiles in the most polite way he can manage, and Billy returns it, "Then who is that?" 

Following where his pointed finger leads, you can see the faces of all the kids peeking around the edge of the door you left open. 

Billy shoves Steve to the ground, deaf to your protests and you flinch when he drives his foot into Steve's stomach. 

“Billy,  _ stop _ !” 

But he’s deaf to your protests, shoving you away. It takes the slamming of the door of the house for your worried brain to remember Steve’s not the one you need to be protecting. 

You take off in an instant and when you burst into the living room, you're nearly livid at the sight of Billy advancing towards Lucas.

Choking down your fear and lurching forward, you pull onto Billy's hair with the harshest tug you can; it pulls him back but he doesn't fall like you hoped. Instead he grits his teeth and turns in your grip, hand clawing onto yours - his vice grip gets tighter and tighter until you release him.

You can't hold in the whimper as he keeps squeezing, a manic grin on his face. As your knees buckle slightly, you begin to think he's going to break your wrist when another voice pipes up.

"Hey asshole!" Lucas yells before launching the rock at the back of his head. Your heartbeat skyrockets as Billy's head snaps around, his anger returning as he lets your wrist free. You can feel a dread sinking into your stomach because you can't stop Billy, and your brain is on high alert, eyes darting over every kid in the room who look as frightened as you feel.

It's true, you can't match his strength but you can try to distract him. And when Billy turns to face you, and without much thought of the aftermath, you raise your fist and land it square in Billy's nose. 

There's not a single part of you that regrets it, not even with your hand beginning to ache in pain. The satisfaction in watching the blood trickle from his nose balances it, watching his anger grow, as does his height when he straightens.

The kids are cheering and your anxiety heightens, hoping the noise won't draw Billy's attention. It doesn't; his focus is solely on you as he raises a hand to wipe his nose and sneers. 

"I hope you're not like this on our date, sweetheart," He spits onto the floor and takes a step forward, grinning when you take one back. 

"I’m surprised you didn't get the message. The date's off," You fire back, trying to keep your face calm as he stalks forward.

"Oh? But I was so keen to get you alone," He says with a purr - it makes your skin prickle with unease. The next step brings your back up against the wall, your pulse picking up in fear that Billy seems to notice; this is just a game of cat and mouse for him. 

"Did Harrington finally grow some balls and ask you out? Oh, that's right!" Billy laughs, wiping his bloody nose again, "Harrington doesn't like you how you like him, isn't that right?" 

It hurts - and you try to hide it but you hate that Billy seems attuned to every change in your emotions. He grins again, so smug and you want to wipe it off his face - so you do. But this time, when you raise your fist, Billy's ready and he catches your arm in his hand, gritting his teeth in anger.

"Fuck you. You won't lay a hand on those kids," You spit out from your clenched jaw and Billy chuckles, his grip on your arm growing tighter. 

"Oh it's the kids you're worried about? Not Harrington? That's adorable." 

You struggle in his hold and he slams you backwards, your head knocking into the wall aggressively. Wincing for a moment before you gather yourself, you lean forward to spit in his face, fighting back against his tightening grip. Billy’s expression pinches in anger as he uses his free hand to wipe it away - his smirk completely gone.

"I normally make a rule not to hit the ladies, but..."

Pain explodes in your jaw as Billy's fist clips it, sending your head to the side. The outcry of the kids reaches your ears before silently praying they won't get involved; Max and Lucas are pulling Dustin and Mike away, barely able to keep them from retaliating. 

Swallowing hard, you turn back to face him - Billy chuckles, "Oh, you want another?" 

Except when he pulls back his fist this time, it's intercepted and you watch as Billy is yanked in the other direction by a rage-fueled Steve. 

"No, I think it's your turn now.”

Billy doesn't get time to think before Steve’s fist is buried his face. 

In the process, Billy throws you into the china cabinet; the rattling from crashing dishes drowns out the cries from the kids. His laugh echoes and it makes your head begin to ache, eyesight spinning as you try and focus on regaining strength. 

“You two are  _ so cute _ , really. I mean-” 

A wicked smirk spreads across his features as he gestures to where you reside, back sliding down the wall to steady yourself. The vile taste of iron hits your tongue as blood drips onto your lips - Billy chuckles again, “You both must have some fire in you after all, huh?”

“Get out,” Steve mutters, pushing Billy back a couple of inches.

Anger bubbles up in Billy again and he starts to ball up his fist; he pulls his whole body back before throwing all his weight into a swing. Steve is barely able to duck out of the way, and Billy’s opened himself up for a strike. 

Steve sees it as you do and takes advantage, landing another punch against his cheek. Billy crashes into the sink, rubbing his jaw in an attempt to sooth it. 

A groan slips from your mouth as you try and get up; pulling your hand away from your face displays your palm coated in your own blood. 

But Billy tosses Steve back far enough to collide with you, sending you both in opposing directions. Another sound escapes you before glancing up to see Steve by the couch, unmoving and still - with Billy on the prowl. 

Your fingers wrap around Billy’s calf and you pull, bringing him to his knees. He grunts after his bones makes contact with the hardwood, but you aren’t able to hold him down for long. He stands and leans down to your level, a maroon-stained grin three inches from your face. 

“No one,” His breath smells like old cigarette smoke and your stomach flips as he comes back up to his full height, “Tells me what to do.” 

The sole of his boot slams down on your fingers as he starts to move again - you cry out at the pain. The feeling spreads down to your elbow, a throbbing that exceeds the one in your temples. 

Blood is spraying in all directions. The sound of knuckles hitting skin barely reach your ears through the ringing; you can’t hear your own sobs caused by the sight of Billy, landing blow after blow upon Steve’s face. It’s killing you, but you can’t get up; you can’t muster the strength. The adrenaline has run out and you’re tired -  _ you’re so tired _ .

All you can do is watch.

You’re barely able to process when Billy passes out, intoxicated by the drug Max injected him with. His body falls hard onto the carpet - blood stained once again.

“Holy shit-” Dustin murmurs before getting on the ground next to you, flipping you over and he holds your head in his hands. Sobs are climbing up your throat as blood mixes with your tears; it rolls down your neck as you try and push yourself away from him, leading to resistance. 

“You’ve gotta sit still - stay on the ground!” Dustin says before eventually getting yanked away by Lucas. You start to sit up but pain - god, the  _ pain  _ \- it erupts from your body like nothing you’ve ever felt.

The dizziness forces you to roll back onto the ground; your brother sighs in defeat, “See?”

“Bag-” You croak, gesturing to your backpack slung over one of the dining room chairs. The kids don’t understand you; they glance at each other with wild eyes.

“My bag!” You say more forcefully, pointing to it with your fingers. They all scramble to retrieve it for you as stumble your way to the couch towards Steve. A split lip, a black eye, swollen cheeks, and endless bruises are waiting for you once you get over to him - you almost can’t look. 

Lucas sets your pack down and Max approaches with a wet cloth. She starts to clean up the mess of blood while you focus on trying to open bandages with three less usable fingers. You huff in frustration, holding the paper packages in the air, “For fuck’s sake, could someone get over here and help me?!”

Mike rushes over and opens three; Lucas applies antibacterial ointment to them as you instruct. You lay them down where Billy split Steve’s skin once Max has cleaned the area to her liking. You push a strand of his hair out of the way, your fingers linger in his mane for a second too long; your heart rate skyrockets at the idea of being caught. 

“Your turn,” Max turns to you with the rag, reaching for your head.

“No, I’m fine. Come on, we gotta go,” You say, reaching out to grip the edge of the coffee table when you stand too fast. While screwing your eyes shut, Dustin grabs your arm to support.

“Wait, where are we going?” Lucas questions as he rises to his feet.

“Mike’s plan just might work,” You answer - Mike cracks a slight smile at your recognition, “But we’ve gotta get moving now before it’s too late.”

“Well, what about you?” Dustin asks, concern blooming within him as you sling your backpack over your shoulder. 

“We have to get to the tunnels.”

“But you’re hurt too-”

“I said I’m fine, Dustin!” You raise your voice just a little too much and his expression gives it away. You never ever yell at him - at any of them; it’s unfortunate that it happens now. You sigh, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you, and you immediately apologize, “I’m sorry. But we’ve gotta go now if we want to help Eleven and save Will.” 

You exhale, reaching out to grip his shoulder in an attempt to reason with him, “Are you with me? You can stay here if you want.” 

Your brother ponders it for a moment, knowing that leaving your side would go against his better judgement. He turns to the others after giving you a nod, “You heard ‘em, move your asses!”

* * *

Max pops the backseat car door open; helping the boys maneuver Steve as best you can takes more effort than you thought it would. Your body protests from every movement but you refuse to let it stop you, much to Dustin’s disdain.

He’s stuck by your side, eyes fixed on your expression, ready to step in if anything goes sideways. Gently and slowly, you manage to shift the Harrington boy onto the seat, standing back with a huff. 

"Alright, Lucas you got the map?" The boy nods and you smile. 

"Max, keys?" She holds them up and they jingle in her hands. 

"Great, toss them here," You say but before Max can move, Dustin’s objecting, hands waving wildly in disagreement. 

"Woah, woah, woah - you're not driving," He states it as if it was obvious. You frown and raise a brow, a silent question to your younger brother.

"You probably have a concussion! It wouldn't be safe," He insists and you resist the urge to roll your eyes when Mike pipes up, "Yeah, you really wanna put us all in danger like that?" 

You turn your subtle glare onto Mike who shrugs in response. He knows he’s only telling you what you don't want to hear. 

"Okay,  _ fine _ ,” You place a hand on your hip, “If not me, then who will drive? Steve?" You gesture to the unconscious boy in the car before Max raises her hand.

"I can drive," She chips in, “I mean, in a parking lot. Same concept though.”

“ _ A parking lot _ ?” You repeat, watching Lucas nod enthusiastically beside her. He’s silently begging you to allow her request, while your face scrunches in fear at the idea.

Your eyes dart from Lucas, to Max, to Mike, finally landing on Dustin and you sigh, knowing it’s a lost battle. Nodding to the redhead in affirmation, you groan, "Please don't get us killed."


End file.
